


Retribution

by Prinzenhasserin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blackmail, Dirty Talk, M/M, Sexual Coercion, can't say no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 07:52:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18442250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prinzenhasserin/pseuds/Prinzenhasserin
Summary: Since Dumbledore and the other teachers won't punish James, Snape takes justice into his own hands. (Potter is unexpectedly very obedient on his knees.)





	Retribution

**Author's Note:**

  * For [salazarastark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/salazarastark/gifts).



James would have waited in the hallway in front of the Slytherin common room if he had it in him to wait anywhere. But he wasn’t, because currently he didn’t feel all that brave hiding behind the hordes of other Slytherins with less of a grudge than Snape. Honestly, at first he’d been relieved that Sirius hadn’t been expelled, or Remus who hadn’t even been at fault—but almost immediately he had known that there was no way Snape would take this lying down. Snape always gave as good as he got, and what was worse than almost murdering someone? James didn’t want to contemplate ideas.So instead, he was camped out in the empty classroom hiding beneath his invisibility cloak, his wand in hand and the map in front of him on the table.

He was looking for Sniv— Snape. He’d have thought the git would rush to Dumbledore to demand Remus’s execution but he was taking his sweet time. James was going to stop him if it was the last thing he did. Remus didn’t deserve to die for something that Sirius did. And really, did Snape always need to react when provoked? It was his own fault, too! What, did he think he could take on the four of them at once? His thoughts turned to the darker methods of retaliation Snape would implement to defend his non-existent honour. It was bound to be horrifying if at all successful. An admittedly rather large amount of Snape’s schemes turned out successful, the sod.

Snape’s little dots was moving up and down the Slytherin dormitories. No one else was present, and not for the first time James wished they could’ve spent more time labelling the dorms, but it was hard enough to map out the girl’s side without entering through any of the doors. He was pacing, probably, or chasing a howler, as that was exactly what Sirius was doing further away in the Gryffindor tower. He looked eerily similar.

Then, suddenly, the dot was moving purposefully down the stairs, out of the common room, and into James’ general direction, as if someone had cast a point-me-charm and was now following it to its proper destination. James was caught unprepared, and had to hastily stash away his invisibility cloak and the map somewhere beneath his briefs where Snivellus wouldn’t go rummaging.

Soon enough, the door opened, and one furious Severus Snape advanced into the classroom. His robes were billowing behind him in a way that made them seem like wings — intimidating, James thought for the first time in his life. His eyes were blazing and focused entirely on him.

"Potter," he said, almost spitting the P against all of nature’s intention. "I’m going to make your lackeys regret they were ever born."

That was bad. Almost as bad as getting Sirius kicked out of school, because then he would fall back into his parents responsibilities, and the less said about Remus’ chances the better. "I’ll do anything, anything at all," James said, and only later on realised that that was the beginning of the end. "But they didn’t have anything to with— they aren’t— You want to take on me, then you can have me, only you have to leave them alone."

"Oh, yeah?" Snape said, for once forgoing the silly London accent he had trained himself to adopt and letting through the same coloration of tone that was so lovely on Lily. "Anything at all? I can have you? Are you sure you want to give me a free-for-all like that?" His eyes were glinting with bitter glee, and yet James knew that he could take anything that Snape wanted to dish out, better than Sirius who was disowned or Remus who was a bloody werewolf and could be legally executed for breathing wrong.

"If you want me, then you leave them alone."

"Really?" Snape got closer and loomed over him. It was weird—James knew Snape, knew that he was a scrawny lanky fellow, with the most godawful greyish underwear. He could take Snape, with one hand bound to his back. And yet. Something about the way Snape was studying him as if he was a particularly pathetic flobberworm beneath his feet— "Even if I want you to break up with Evans?"

James swallowed. Lily and he weren’t dating— yet. It was that particularly fraught period of getting-together where they were generally thought of as a pair but where they hadn’t talked about being exclusive, or even if it was working for both of them. James was still in awe that Lily had let herself be taken out by him. He knew that Snape and Lily hadn’t talked much lately—but he was sure Snivellus could find a way to break them up even so. He’d been her friend for ages, and he was a Slytherin. Neither of those facts meant he was in any way trustworthy to let it be.

And then, there was the fact that James had saved his life because Sirius had done the most stupidest thing ever.

"I didn’t think so," Snape said with that satisfied air that drove James up the wall. Snape was horrid when he was wrong, and it was worse when he was right, and currently, he really had James in the palm of his hand. Right were he wanted him. James squirmed, completely uncomfortable about the position he had been manoeuvred into. If only all the events leading up to this hadn’t happened. If only Snape wasn’t the kind of arse to use everything he could get his hands on to the fullest extent. "You know, breaking up with Lily was the most benign repayment I could think of— since I have the full right to go to the Ministry and denunciate Lupin as the monster he is."

"Remus isn’t a monster!" James protested loudly.

"Far be it from you to focus on the pertinent details, and instead defend the indefensible." Snape sighed theatrically, further emphasising how much he was enjoying their reversed positions. And it was James own fault that had landed him in this predicament, which made it even worse. "The point I was making was that I could do so— but I won’t, unless you do something to make it worth my while."

"What you could really do for me, Potter— suck my cock. It’s quite likely the only thing you’ll be good for."

"What?" James asked, looking mightily confused. His eyes were round behind his equally round glasses, and his mouth stood just that little bit open. Snape watched him wet his lips with the sort of hunger he usually saw in Remus and red meat. He swallowed, his nerves getting the better of him. It didn’t help—Snape’s eyes followed the gesture downward with a weight that was palpable. Heat rushed to his ears, his cheeks, his neck.

Merlin! He’d expected something humiliating but that!

"Did the brave Gryffindor find the line he’s too scared to cross? Suddenly not so brave when you need to take what’s given to you?" Snape mocked.

"I can take anything you dish out, Snape. Bring it on," James took up the bait knowing it was what Snape wanted. But really, what else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just go to McGonagall with this sort of stuff. Not to mention what would happen if Snape started gossiping about the hairy problem in the room.

"Drop to your knees, then." Snape’s eyebrow was arched with the obvious challenge. He didn’t think James would do it, banked on James balking, probably, so he could make it into James’ fault when he spilled the beans on Remus’ werewolf thing. But James could take everything Snape dished out. What was a little cocksucking between school mates? Not that they were mates or anything. He sank to his knees. The halls of Hogwarts — and its classrooms — weren’t really made for kneeling for longer than a few seconds. The roughly hewn stone was tough on his knees and he could feel them growing stiffer, and even so the only thing he could focus on was Snape, in front of him managing to do him like this with no discernable effort whatsoever.

"You look like you’re comfortable, Potter," said Snape looking smug. "How does it feel to be on your knees for a filthy—how did you put it? Peasant? Death-eater? Take your pick."

Snape was gangly at the best of times, hiding beneath robes that were falling apart at the seams. He’d been stick thin as long as James had known him, which made his nose look even bigger than it was. Completely unattractive of course, always, and he couldn’t understand how anyone would look at Snape in a sexual manner. He was repulsive.

In the darkness of the abandoned classroom, through the grimy windows that let in only a fraction of light, he was looming over James like he had grown into a man when James hadn’t been looking. His voice was deeper than most of their classmates. James would of course never admit it on pain of death, but the adrenaline of possibly being discovered like this and the degradation of being ordered around by Snape of all people combined to a shocking incident in his pants — he was getting excited. He was red all over from the humiliation, probably. He couldn’t help it or he would hide any and all indication that he was turned on by Snape a little bit, and now he was even getting stiff.

James shuddered in revulsion, but secretly messing around in a classroom was thrilling him. Moony had always accused him of being a slut for an audience, and now it turned out that Moony had been right, as usual. He liked the threat of getting caught, apparently not only when it was about pranks.

"Are you waiting for another invitation?" Snape asked, and pushed aside his open robes. His trousers were open already, and he wasn’t wearing underwear.

James couldn’t focus on the clothes for long enough to mock them as he usually did, he was too focused on the monster in front of him. Snape’s cock was huge, much larger than any James had caught a glance of in the Quidditch locker rooms. Who knew he had that kind of thing hidden beneath his baggy robes! No way that was going to fit into his mouth, let alone other holes.

Snape pushed forward, and James caught the scent of clean soap. The bastard had prepared for this! Suddenly James wondered if there was a Slytherin under an invisibility spell recording the session. Perhaps Snivellus was preparing his utter humiliation. Snape’s cock was in front of his lips, and James couldn’t help but lick his lips. It was a reflex because of the sudden dryness of his mouth, and not at all because he actually wanted to suck a cock, of course.

James opened his mouth to protest, he was going to swear to his dying day. Snape, however, took the opportunity afforded to him, and pushed his cock inside his mouth.

James knew enough about these sort of things (he was well-read, okay!) to be careful with his teeth. The first few moments he gurgled around the large cock in his mouth anyway. He’d seen his fair share of interesting magazines, but none of them compared to the real thing. Snape’s cock in his mouth was warm and musty. He could feel along the texture with his tongue, the weight of the member in his mouth, and wasn’t this a revelation, that Snape could make him do this, could turn him on like this. James had discovered he liked sucking Snape’s cock.

"How unexpected your talent in cocksucking is," Snape said, meaning the opposite. "No wonder Dumbledore likes you so much."

James tried to protest forgetting the cock in his mouth—instead he gurgled strangely. Snape took the opportunity to press his cock further into James’s mouth. He swallowed around it, much too shocked by the sudden movement. It slid down his throat with minimal resistance, and before James could even think of chocking, Snape had pulled out again.

"This is more tedious than I had expected even though you’re such a good little cocksucker," Snape said conversationally, not at all like someone who was getting his cock sucked. James doubled his efforts and sucked in the entire length to his root, trying to get Snape to loose his composure.

He wasn’t having it. "I want to hear you moan like the slut you are," Snape said and pulled out entirely. James caught himself before he could follow the cock like a dog after a bone, but Snape saw the look on his face and came to the right conclusions. He chuckled, deep in his throat, and the casual way of him divining James’s thoughts was strangely hot. James didn’t know where his head was at. Probably in his dick, as usual. But why was he this way about Snape of all people!

"Come on, turn around. You’re getting what you so desperately need: A cock up your arse. Maybe then you’ll be satisfied."

James flushed a deep dark red. He really didn’t know how to deal with this at all! Snape pointed his wand at him, and before he could protest, or do much else than blink the tears out of his eyes, Snape had charmed his clothes off. James could be thankful that he had not vanished them entirely, but had them folded on one of the classroom desks—a courtesy he wasn’t sure Snape was aware of. "Turn around, on the desk," Snape ordered, and like a fool, James did so.

He felt the cold substance between his arse cheeks not seconds later, applied with the wand again.

It wasn’t long until he felt the big fat cock he’d just had in his mouth entering his arse. Snape wasn’t being careful. He just pushed in, slow and steady, and something about his utter self-assurance got James something good. He couldn’t help himself—never had there been something so big, so warm, so full up his arse. He didn’t think Snape would fit. He didn’t think those noises—small, desperate squeaks—were coming from him, but who else would it be?

"Yes, Potter, that’s exactly what you always needed, isn’t it. A big fat cock up your arse until you can’t even find words."

James was panting, he was struggling to contain the motions. His dick was bopping into the table in front of him and tracking a trail of his own spunk. This was the teacher’s desk. And still he couldn’t keep in his desperate whining noises, the chocked up noises Snape was pulling out of him. Without even touching him, Snape had not only his cock weeping. "I— am able to— words," he protested, more for the form of it.

As a reply, Snape stuck his fingers into his mouth. They’re salty, and taste of come, and yet James can only suck on them.

Snape finally spilled over, filling James’ hole with hot, pulsing bursts of come. He could feel it, felt it when Snape pulled out and some of the fluid drips out alongside him. James shuddered in pleasure, and then Snape drew his fingers along his crack and his balls pull up and he comes himself, all over the teacher’s desk.

When James can think clearly again, which took a few minutes, Snape looked like he barely sweated. He was fully clothed again—or still, even though James felt his cock in excruciating detail, he’s not sure Snape even undressed at all.

He was looking smugly on James, on the mess he created on top of his clothes, and in the rest of the classroom. "See you again on Saturday, Potter," Snape said, and slapped his butt.

James could feel his buttcheeks jiggling. He was not too distracted by that to register Snape’s words, however, and turned quickly. "What are you talking about?"

Snape watched his bits with a smug look on his face. James flushed—he was really very naked compared to Snape who just tugged his cock back into his pants and looked as put-together as he always was. Nobody would be able to tell he had sex recently. "You can’t expect me to let go of the fact that your pet werewolf was about to murder me after just one fuck?"

James shook his head, more to clear out his head than to deny Snape’s snappishness. "I didn’t think…"

"Nothing unusual, is it? Why would I just pass up the opportunity to humiliate you when I get the chance? Especially since you seem to like it so much, Potter, you slut." And then Snape left the classroom, disregarding James and the dripping puddle of semen he left behind.

James vanished it, and then took care of his close. With some trepidation, he left the classroom himself, only to run headfirst into the 6th year Ravenclaw prefect who looked at him funny but hopefully noticed nothing but his flushed face.


End file.
